A Cut To Feel Something
by Sadistic Writer of FanFiction
Summary: Hiro's having a hard time coping after the death of his brother, and turns to self injury to help with the numbness and pain.


He's dead.

There one minute, gone the next. Just like that. _Poof._ All that remained of Tadashi Hamada was the scorched remains of his body, soulless and empty.

Why'd he go into that burning building? Why was helping others so much more important than his own safety? Why, why, why? So many questions with no answers. There'd never be any answers. Because the only person who could answer, was dead.

Hiro felt like he was in a haze. He stood hunched over at the base of the flaming university. He was uncomfortably warm, and stray embers burnt his skin and clothes. Wisps of smoke curled in the air, overpowering the generally smoggy air, causing Hiro to cough and hack, as he wasn't getting enough clean oxygen into his lungs. Everything burned; his eyes, his throat, his chest. He couldn't hear the roar of the flames, since his ears were still ringing from the explosion. Nothing felt real in that moment, nothing but the tattered hat he grasped firmly in his hand.

If asked, Hiro would tell you that he doesn't remember anything that happened afterwards, that he remembers the explosion, and then he was at home, in bed. He doesn't remember sitting on the steps of an ambulance, an oxygen mask strapped to his face. He doesn't recall talking to police officers, or paramedics. He doesn't remember his aunt coming to get him, face tear stained as she squeezed him in a hug. But he remembers laying in his bed, facing away from Tadashi's side of the room, sobbing uncontrollably, before finally tiring himself out, and falling into a fitful slumber.

He didn't cry after that night. He was overcome with numbness. Everything was just… grey. Everyday activities were so tiring, and everything seemed pointless. The thought of eating made Hiro queasy, and he no longer bothered with things like basic hygiene or any fun activities. For the most part, he spent his time in bed, with the occasional bathroom break and trips to close the curtains after Aunt Cass opens them.

Tadashi's friend group, Go-Go, Honey Lemon, Wasabi, and Fred, constantly tried to contact him via video calls, texts, and straight up showing up at the café. Hiro promptly ignored all attempts at contact, not wishing to see them, as it would only serve as a painful reminder of what he'd lost.

One day, as he mindlessly fiddle with some spare parts left over from his bot fighting days, Hiro finally realized how _broken_ he felt. Numb, with a hint of sadness was the only thing he ever felt. So, against his better judgement, Hiro grabbed a pocket knife from his tool kit, and brought it up to his arm. There was no uncontrollable sobbing, or any dramatics. Just a kid, who desperately wanted to feel something, who finally, _finally_ did. The bite and sting of the blade cutting into his skin was a welcome sensation from the nothingness he'd felt before. The bright red blood brought colour into his world.

Hiro initially had cut his wrists and forearms, before ultimately deciding that that was too risky, and opted to cut his thighs and hips instead. Cutting seemed to be the only thing that Hiro could do to control not only his pain, but his life as well.

It wasn't until everything went down with the nanobots, Callaghan, and Big Hero 6, that Hiro realized that what he was doing to himself was wrong. He avenged his brother, saved the day, became a superhero. But none of that mattered now, because he had a support group. He had friends that would stick by him, no matter what. Besides, when the whole debacle went down, Hiro never hurt himself once.

A couple days after the hype had finally gone down, he called the group to The Lucky Cat. They sat around the empty café, sipping warm beverages and indulging in some pastries.

"I need help." Hiro said, not meeting anyone's eyes.

"What's going on?" Honey asked, worry filling her tone.

"After Tadashi… well, I sunk pretty low, and I ended up hurting myself. But I've come to realize that it isn't healthy, or safe to be doing that. I want to stop, really, I do. But I don't think I can do it on my own." Hiro explained, fidgeting with the sleeves of his hoodie.

"We'll help you, but you're gonna need professional help, more than us or Baymax can give you." Go-Go added.

Fred and Wasabi nodded, chiming in their own support, before they went to raid Hiro's room, removing any objects he could use to harm himself. Honey Lemon and Go-Go sat with Hiro as he told his aunt about what was going on. She gasped in surprise, guilt and worry etched on her features. She assured him that she wasn't angry, and that she would help him find a therapist, and that she would always be there when he needs her.

After some trial and error, Hiro found a therapist he connected with, that also gave him coping strategies that he didn't hate. It wasn't smooth sailing, there were days where Hiro would cry and scream, days where he'd swear and throw things. He relapsed a couple times, but managed to get clean after each incident.

Doctors prescribed him light doses of antidepressants, and after a few months, and a few different medication switches, he found one that actually helped improve his mood. That, coupled with his therapy and the support of his friends and family, was what got him through each and every day.

The loss of Tadashi still hurt, but no longer gave him all encompassing hopelessness and numbness. Hiro missed his brother each and every day, but knew, deep down, that he'd be okay, even though he had to go through life without him.


End file.
